


The Eternal Garden

by Percyjacksonfan3



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: But whatever, Gen, God is a know-it-all, Lucifer is smarter than he appears, This is probably blasphemy somehow, and talk over tea, but in a non-condescending way, the idea took hold of me and would not let go, they're kind of friends now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 22:20:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19282330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Percyjacksonfan3/pseuds/Percyjacksonfan3
Summary: Lucifer and God meet in a garden and have a conversation. After all, if anybody can find out what the Ineffable Plan really is it's the Devil.





	The Eternal Garden

**Author's Note:**

> So this is just a (hopefully) interesting little story about Lucifer and God and their thoughts on the Apocalypse That Wasn't. There was so much nuance to this show, the book, and the characters and with all of the religious lore to work off as well it was impossible to resist writing a little character study of a sort. Hopefully you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

There is a bird standing on top of a thin metal wrought iron gate singing. A nightingale to be precise.

The gate leads to a garden. One bursting with colourful flowers and towering trees. Anywhere there isn’t floras there is grass, green and trimmed to perfection. A small circular table sits on the grass, near the top of a small and rolling hill, covered in a draping white table cloth edged with crochet. Two chairs, one white and one black, sit beside it, angled to look towards one particular apple tree at the center of the garden.

Each chair is different. The white one is simple and made of wood. Its counterpart is elaborately etched metal, closer to the colour of onyx and bears the resemblance of a throne.

The white one is occupied by a being of indeterminate gender and appearance. Their aura is beyond comprehension and where some might take one look at them and shriek back in horror others would fall to their knees and weep from happiness. Most just smiled and kept walking.

The nightingale hops along the top iron bar of the gate and sings away. The being occupying the white chair makes themselves a cup of tea, adding only a splash of milk and no sugar before bringing the delicate teacup up to sip from.

Sun shines down from a brilliant blue sky and a few clouds drift overhead. It was a nice day.

The moments tick past. One second turns into another and as it does suddenly there is another being, this one standing just outside the gate.

He is dressed in a close-fitting black suit with dark red loafers for shoes. His tie flickers as if it’s made from flame and as he tips his pale face up to bask in the sunlight his eyelids fall, covering eyes of fire.

The being sitting down smiles around the rim of the teacup and does not look behind themselves to see.

Eventually the man- for lack of a better descriptor- opens his eyes and lets out an appreciative breath. His eyes are brown now, deep and warm, with no traces of their earlier supernatural light. He looks down at the gate, meeting the eyes of the singing bird, and holds out a hand.

“Hello there.”

The voice is pure seduction. A human would be hard pressed to resist anything this man said. Angels would struggle to turn away and demons would cower in awe at the pure power it held.

The bird just chirps happily and hops from the gate to the man’s flat palm.

Contrary to popular human media, the bird does not immediately die from contact. It’s not as if this being is Death, after all. The aviary creature does not cower in fear or beg for mercy.

No, it merely rests on the skin, talons digging in ever so slightly to keep a firm grip as the man raises it up to eye-level.

“How lovely you are,” the Adversary says quietly and the bird blinks at him twice in appreciation before he holds his hand out once more and it take flight, wings beating quickly as it soars up into the sky.

The moment of peaceful tranquility breaks and the soft smile on the Devil’s face becomes sly as he leans forward on the gate, fingers wrapped around the railing, and stops himself from crossing the invisible barrier.

“Shall I ask for permission to enter?”

The being in the garden finally places their cup down and speaks for the first time since arriving ages ago. Or was it? It’s difficult to know really, since they are an indefinable presence after all.

“You never have before. I see no reason for you to change now.”

Satan’s grin turns amused and he finally lets himself through the gate. It closes with a quiet clang behind him as he makes his way over and falls into the dark throne across the table from Them. Him, Her, Them, it didn’t matter, they’d been called it all before. Each label fit them equally as well as the others and, apart from a few days here and there, they usually didn’t have a preference.

God tended to work best, stripped of gendered connotations as it was. Perhaps we shall stick with that. For simplicity.

So Satan smiled at God as he sat down and God smiled back, knowing and patient and watchful. There was a tangible air between the two beings. It was not unlike the atmosphere around a parent and child who had just settled a years long argument. The child had finally come to understand, at least in part, why the parent had been so obstinate and seemingly-cruel and the parent, while not apologizing, gave the impression of deep sorrow for the divide their behaviour had caused.

This was, of course, an oversimplification. But as far as analogies go it would have to do at present.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“A few hundred years,” God replies, taking another sip of tea while the Devil stirred several spoons of sugar into his.

“Has it really? I thought around 10 decades or so myself. Time does move quickly.” He picks up his cup and drinks about half of the tea in one go, relishing the warmth. Nobody ever did manage to make it quite the same way as his companion.

“It moves just as fast as ever.”

“Mmm.” The fallen angel says, with the air of somebody who disagrees but won’t outright say so. “It’s been a busy few centuries, though, you have to admit. Revolutions and world wars.” The pale man grins, white teeth on full display. “A failed attempt at Armageddon.”

“They’ve always been busy little things.” God says. “Raising kingdoms and then destroying them. Exploring the universe. They amuse themselves.”

“Wonder what the humans would say if they knew you thought as much of them as they do of ants.”

“Oh, I never said that.” They turned away, cup cradled in their hands as They looked at the distant apple tree.

The two of them sit in silence, Lucifer appraising his Creator and the Creator themself lost in their own thoughts. Lucifer finally pours himself another cup of tea, an exact replica of his first, and takes a small sip.

“I do have questions.”

God smiles to Themself. “Yes, I know.”

“Will you answer them?”

“Mostly.”

“Kind of you,” Satan says a bit drily but he hurries on. “Shall I start with the obvious?”

“You can begin wherever you like, nobody will come to interrupt us. We have all the time in the world.”

“You always say that. As if we could stay in the garden for the rest of time and no one would notice.”

“Who says they would?”

“Please. They would fall apart.”

“Hmm.” God ponders that, eyes lighting up. “It would be interesting to test, wouldn’t it?”

Lucifer frowns.

God smiles and looks away again. “They’re fine. All of them. And we will not take forever here, merely an afternoon. They will survive.”

For a second Satan almost rolls his eyes. After meeting like this for so long he had managed to grasp the way these meetings worked. Still, he begins the real conversation like he always does. “I know you planned all of this. You wanted it to happen this way.”

He doesn’t actually know that, and God’s amused smile turned his way tells him that they are both keenly aware of his lie.

They’ve had this discussion since the Fall. Did God really know how things ended or not? Was everything that happened part of the Ineffable Plan, and if so, was it wanted? Did God control everybody else or were they really all stumbling along as They watched, waiting to see what would happen and nudging a few things here and there to steer them in new directions.

Lucifer had always convinced himself that God did know and control every aspect. The idea that not only were humans powerless, but him and his demons, the angels, even God Themself wasn’t in control was daunting. He didn’t like to consider it and relinquish his grasp on the idea of his own authority.

“Your message told me it was time for the war so I informed the demons of that and sired a child. You said he had to be raised on Earth so I gave him to Crowley and the nuns.” Satan watched God carefully, noticing every micro expression. He couldn’t help but get the impression that he was being evaluated and, so far, coming out promising. “Imagine my betrayal at thinking you wanted us all to come to blows. Just when I’d started to think we were friends.”

“Funny thing, isn’t it? Betrayal.” God looks at him significantly, smiling when his only reaction was a flash of his eyes. “And we will never be friends, Lucifer. It’s not how we’re made.”

“No.” He agrees finally, ignoring the ancient memories stirred up at their words. “But we also haven’t been enemies for a long time.”

“We were never enemies either, though you won’t believe me.”

“You’re right, I won’t.” He brushes past the topic quickly. Time does a lot to dull old wounds. “So there I was, hurt to the core,” he ignores God’s sound of amusement and disbelief, “thinking it was finally time to duke it out. Vent the old frustrations, if you like. But then Beelzebub starts whining about the demon Crowley, saying Hastur and Ligur are kicking up a fuss about him and I think, hmm, what’s going on there? And _then_ I get _another_ message from you that practically contain stage instructions for when I go and finally meet my son, only for the boy to tell me I’m not his real father and change all of reality.”

God looks pleased. “You did very well. I was on the edge of my seat watching it all. And all that spontaneous yelling? It worked perfectly.”

Lucifer sighs. He had always had the flair for the dramatic and when he’d received the notice saying that actually Adam was supposed to _not_ want Armageddon and reject Satan and Heaven the Devil had done the best he could to make sure it happened. Humanity’s concept of him had been useful to draw on for a physical appearance (really, he wasn’t as disgusting as all that, was he? All huge and red with horrible neglected and damaged wings and don’t even get him started on the teeth and oral hygiene, honestly) and he’d already ignored Adam for 11 years. Being rude and demanding the first time they met was bound to do the trick and put him off for good, he’d thought. Luckily he’d been right.

He wasn’t exactly the paternal sort anyway.

“So what was it all for?”

God raises the cup delicately for another drink. “Guess.”

“Amusement?”

They hum, setting the china back down. “You might say that. I would disagree.”

“It seems like a temper tantrum that fizzled out before the violence started. Or a warning.” He cocks his head, eyeing God. “Not sure which would be worse, to be honest.”

“That’s being unkind.”

“All I know is that I have a host of unhappy demons milling around. Hell is even gloomier than usual. And Beelzebub won’t shut up about Gabriel.”

“Gabriel is much the same. Poor Metatron is sick of being asked whether Gabriel shouldn’t go and keep an eye on your first-in-command.”

“She’s in Hell.” Lucifer rolls his eyes at Gabriel’s stupidity. “How exactly does he plan to keep an eye on her there?”

“He couldn’t. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting to.”

“Tell me about it. Beelzebub tries to act casual anytime the Archangel is mentioned. It’s painful to watch.”

“They don’t understand their own history. You cannot blame them for that.”

“They don’t remember knowing each other from Before?”

“No. They likely never will. All they know is that they intrigue one another.”

Lucifer thinks back to his days in Heaven, remembers Gabriel and Beelzebub- though she’d had a different name back then- bickering constantly but inseparable. After the Fall she hadn’t remembered the Archangel at all. Most of the demons didn’t remember Heaven much.

Lucifer had always thought it was one of God’s kindest mercies. And that having his own memories, crystalline and immaculate, was his harshest punishment.

“Nothing can happen. A demon and an angel don’t work. It’s impossible.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Something in Lucifer twisted painfully. He ignored it. “You’re talking about the Serpent and the Principality.”

They nodded, looking back at him and waiting.

“They’re going to be a problem.”

“What makes you think so?”

The Devil feels something close to fear. “You don’t see trouble coming from this?”

“I suppose that would depend on your definition of trouble.”

“Defection. Rebellion. As I recall you’re not too fond of that.”

“Aren’t I?” God looks at him from across their tea table, eyes intense. Lucifer stares back, feeling wrong footed.

Sometimes he hated talking to the Almighty. He always left with more questions than answers. But it was a privilege, these meetings. Nobody else got this kind of quality time with Them. Or such honest and blatant answers.

“Don’t play games.”

God’s lips twitch. “But they’re so much fun.”

Familiar frustration wells in the Devil. “You’ve never cared for the feelings involved.”

“And you have?”

Lucifer gnashes his teeth together. He refuses to have this fight again, it’s old and they’ll never agree. He tries a new tack, hoping to get better answers. “You always did have a soft spot for Crowley.”

God shakes Their head. “I don’t play favourites. You know that.”

“So you love us all equally it’s just that some of us get better roles to perform than others, is that it? An elaborate production for your amusement as we mindlessly play our parts?”

“Do you feel mindless?” God inquires taking a sip of tea before answering the first part of his question. “They do say variety is the spice of life. Everybody cannot be the same or there would be no story. No satisfaction.”

“You do realize,” Lucifer says slowly, “how hearing that makes me feel?”

“You fought to be equals. Do not blame me for treating you as one with my honesty.”

“We’ll never be equals.” He says bitterly but he leaves it at that. He takes another drink for something to do. “The two of them will be trouble though. Everyone else thinks they’ve become human. When they figure out that’s impossible there will be questions. Challenges to authority.”

God cocks Their head. “Are you concerned for them or for your position?”

“Neither. I just want to know why go to all of this trouble, almost causing the end of the world, panicking everybody, preparing us all, only to rip it away. What was the point? What changed?”

“What changed?” God muses. “Many things.”

“Like?”

“I find that when faced with the prospect of limited time we realize what we believe in and show our true colours. Would you agree?”

Lucifer watches, wary. “I suppose.”

“Demons realize there are some people, some things, that they would miss. Angels break rules for what they want. Lines are drawn, crossed and redrawn with blurrier ink. Desperation is a motivator.”

“For what?” Lucifer snaps. “Who needed to be pushed so far?”

“All of them.” God says softly. “Many of your legions were entirely prepared for war. A few were not. That distinction is important.”

“But why? What purpose does it serve?”

“It will spark change. There must always be an example for others to follow.”

Cold gripped the Devil. “So Crowley and the angel. That’s what they are, an example.” He frowns. “You want us all to join forces once more?”

“I want you to want to.” God says, watching him closely.

Lucifer stares at him. “You want me to surrender?”

Disappointment flickers across Their face. “No. Though I would accept it if you did.”

“Enough.” Lucifer turns to stare back out over the grass. “You’ve told me many times my legions and I can never become angels again. We couldn’t go back to how things were even if we did want to. Too much has happened.”

“That is not what I want either. I already told you, I do not want everyone to be the same. There needs to be differences, conflicting opinions and values, or all there will be is stagnancy. I do not want repetition, I want you and my angels to have peace and co operation. Just the way you are.”

Lucifer laughs, sardonic and scathing. “That’s impossible.”

“Is it?” They lean back in their chair. “Crowley and Aziraphale have fallen in love. If they can coexist so well is friendship among the rest of you so out of reach?”

“They are outliers. You’re speaking of the impossible.”

“Anything is possible if I want it to be.” God smiles at him. “You want it too. You wouldn’t be here meeting with me all this time if you didn’t. If you thought it was hopeless for our two sides to get along we could not sit here now as we do.”

Lucifer says nothing until he changes the subject.

“But the others think they’re human. They don’t know they’re still an angel and a demon. What example does that serve?”

God’s eyes light up and They lean forward towards him again, proud but pushing. “How could they have made it through the Holy Water and Hellfire if they weren’t human?”

“They switched bodies.” Lucifer says, already knowing the answer. “Didn’t they?”

“Yes.”

Seconds go by. Birds chirp, insects buzz and leaves rustle. Lucifer stares at a beetle as it crawls in the grass.

“The demons haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Nor the angels.”

“Will they?”

“Eventually.” God inclines Their head. “I’m not sure what the reaction will be.”

“When will they work it out?”

“Oh, a couple hundred years at least.” They smile. “The two of them deserve that much, don’t you think?”

“I don’t see why. They haven’t done anything to earn it.”

“No?”

Lucifer knows he’s lying but he still says, “no.”

God lets it go. “To say peace is the end goal would be a lie. But you were all my angels once. You the brightest and most promising of all. I would love to see what you could all do if you found common ground and worked together once more. Who knows,” God finishes their tea. “You may even surprise me.”

His hand clenches around the cup. “So you want me to leave them alone.”

“For now.” They watch him, suddenly sad. “You may even check in on them occasionally.”

The painful twist in his chest grows tighter, spreading. “Why would I do that?”

“Oh I don’t know,” God settles against the back of the chair, watching as he stands up. “To see an angel and a demon together? You might gain something from it.”

He laughs and it’s only slightly bitter. Slowly he looks down from where he towers, formal but vulnerable. “Like what?”

God smiles. “Hope.”

He hesitates, hands shoved into his suit trouser pockets. Their eyes hold in wordless communication. Finally Lucifer swallows and nods, stepping away from his chair.

God knows what he’ll ask before leaving because he asks every time. That doesn’t make him any less earnest as the devil-may-care attitude falls away and they look at one another. “How’s Michael?”

It’s not pity in God’s expression, not exactly. Pity is too human a word and God is anything but.

“They were down there. To give you the Holy Water.” God’s eyes search his and Lucifer looks away. “You didn’t see them?”

He presses his lips together in a thin line. Michael had gone looking for him in Hell, during Crowley’s trial. He had known, had felt it, but he had hid anyway. Always hiding, always trying to work out what he was supposed to do, what God had planned for him to do and ending up never doing anything at all.

Lucifer had fought for the ability to make his own choices, rule his own fate and won as he was cast out of Heaven. But even down in Hell, reigning as King, he was incapable of making them. Now he wondered if the problem hadn’t been Heaven and God, but himself.

God takes pity and doesn’t let the minutes stretch out any longer waiting for an answer. “Michael is well.”

Lucifer nods and straightens up. “Good.”

There is nothing left to say.

“Until we meet again then?”

God nods, already looking away, back to the apple tree. “You choose the place next time.”

Satan looks around the garden, touches the worked metal of his throne and takes a deep breath. So unlike Purgatory, up here. He understands why they both love the Earth so much. Lucifer is almost as proud of it as God themself.

“Don’t wait another couple hundred years.”

“We’ll see.”

They shoot him a smile and then the Devil walks out of the garden and disappears.


End file.
